


Drunk in Love

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alcohol, Especially not while tipsy, Fluff, Inspired by Fanart, Juno Steel is very pretty and Nureyev doesn't know how to handle it, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: Nureyev could guess, then, what kind of drunk Juno was. He was the kind whose current predominate emotion, whatever it was, was exacerbated by the alcohol. When he was sad, he’d end up crying into his drinks. When he was angry, there would be yelling and picking fights.Right now, Juno was happy.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	Drunk in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Beyonce's Drunk in Love which is honestly irrelevant to the tone of this fic, I've just been listening to it a lot recently and this seemed like a good opportunity to use it as a title lol.
> 
> Written for an anonymous request-ee on Tumblr! They wanted something inspired by @honeyjarr's [beautiful art](https://honeyjarr.tumblr.com/post/626866431473123328/it-was-my-birthday-yesterday-viva-indulgence-and) and I was happy to oblige.
> 
> Set post-Man in Glass but pre Jupeter being in an established, public relationship.
> 
> CWs:  
> \- Alcohol consumption (duh)  
> \- BRIEF reference to Sarah Steel being Sarah Steel  
> \- Minor injury  
> \- Non-explicit talk of/joking about sexual stuff

Nureyev had never seen Juno Steel drunk before.

For all his insistence that he was ‘getting drunker by the second’ back in his apartment on that fated night when Nureyev had gifted him a name and kiss, Nureyev knew he had been far from truly drunk, then. Juno was a broad man, and one with a long history of drinking. Unlike Nureyev, he held his liquor well.

Now, on board the Carte Blanche, he had been trying to cut down on his alcohol consumption. It was part of his recovery, part of leaving behind the mess of poor coping mechanisms and bad decisions that used to make up Detective Juno Steel.

So when Buddy had pulled out the bottle, it was only with assurance from Jet and Juno that they were both okay with it- and when Juno had asked her to pour him a glass, he did so with the promise that he wasn’t using the alcohol to deal with any bad feelings that ought to be handled another way.

“Rita and I used to get drunk sometimes and watch the lowest-rated streams we could find,” he said. “It was…fun.”

Rita nodded enthusiastically. “Mistah Steel would always start yelling and throwing popcorn at the screen!”

“Very well, then,” Buddy said. “I trust your judgement, Juno.”

Nureyev kept one eye on Juno as he sipped his own drink, curious. What kind of a drunk was Juno? Sobbing? Angry? …Handsy?

He folded his hope for the latter away.

Nureyev seldom ever drank, and never on the job. It was too risky. Drinking meant losing your inhibitions, losing control over your emotions, and if there was anything that Nureyev desperately didn’t want to lose, it was that. His persona was perfectly crafted. He couldn’t risk letting a bottle of wine or liquor crumble it.

He was already tipsy after his first glass, which was embarrassing. He intended to stop there- to perhaps ask for a refill, but only pretend to sip it before surreptitiously dumping it. As soon as the second one was poured, however, he found himself actually drinking it.

Something about these people made him feel safe enough to allow some loss of inhibition. That realization terrified him, but he kept drinking nonetheless.

Juno had almost finished his third glass, and only now seemed to be feeling the effects of it. He was talking more loudly than he had been before, and his eyes were slightly unfocused. He shot Nureyev a glance and the thief took another sip, mostly just to hide the blush that was creeping up his face courtesy of both the alcohol and the sight of Juno, who was looking handsomely disheveled with his hair mussed and his sweater slipped down around his shoulders.

After Jet excused himself to bed early, they somehow ended up in a game of Never Have I Ever, which Nureyev had never heard of but Juno insisted was a staple among schoolkids in Oldtown.

“All right!” Rita said. “Never have I ever…done _it_ in a public place.”

Nureyev raised an eyebrow. “If by ‘it’, you mean sexual intercourse…” He took a drink, and then nearly spat it back out when he saw Juno drink, too.

“What?” Juno said innocently. _“You_ drank.”

“You’re both gross,” Vespa growled at them.

“Really? In all your life, you’ve never once given in to the heat of the moment?” Nureyev asked, trying to distract himself from his own brain, which was currently insistent on conjuring up artist’s interpretations of Juno on a park bench, or in a theater, or-

“It’s _private!_ You do it inside!”

“Sometimes you just don’t have many options!” Juno protested.

“Ugh, whatever. Here, I’ll go next…”

Nureyev was very, very bad at the game, as it turned out. What could he say: he was an adventurous man, and one who’d lived a rich life. He wasn’t going to apologize for that. It didn’t hurt that Juno was drinking almost as often as he was, either. He carefully filed away all of the lady’s responses to the various statements, mentally marking some as being in _desperate_ need of further follow up.

_Juno Steel had never swum in the ocean._

_Juno Steel had set a cop car on fire._

_Juno Steel had participated in a foursome._

It was all very important information. Nureyev only hoped he’d actually remember it tomorrow. That was seeming less and less likely, the tipsier he got. He tried to take small sips throughout the game, but by the time it had ended, he knew he was gone. He’d regret letting that happen once he was sober, of course, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I think that’s enough for this evening,” Buddy said after a while, seeming to sense that both Nureyev and Juno were looking rather worse for the wear.

“One more!” Rita insisted. “Never have I ever…almost fallen out a window ‘cause I was chasing after a love letter.”

 _“Rita!”_ Juno exclaimed. “I told you that in confidence! Plus, that doesn’t count. It’s targeting! That’s…against the rules!”

“There ain’t no rules, Mistah Steel!”

“Ugh, fine,” Juno said, and drank.

Nureyev couldn’t help being curious, and even- ridiculously- jealous. Who had written Juno a love letter? Who had Juno cared so much about that even he, acrophobic as he was, had been willing to nearly jump out a window to save a note from them?

By all means, it could have happened decades ago. There was no reason to be envious. Nureyev had realized that he was prone to envy when it came to Juno Steel, however, and the alcohol was likely just heightening the emotion.

“Mistah Ransom’s got a funny look on his face,” Rita commented.

“Yeah, ‘cause he knows it was his letter,” Juno grumbled.

“Really!? Mistah Steel, you never told me that!”

“…Didn’t come up.”

Nureyev froze, feeling something warm spread through him. _Ah._ “You…kept my note? I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t have it anymore. It got lost somewhere along the way. It’s been…a hectic past few months,” Juno said, sounding genuinely upset by the loss. Then he frowned. “What, Ransom, did you really not realize Rita was talking about your note?”

“I…”

A wide smile spread over Juno’s face. “Oh, my god. Your expression a moment ago…were you jealous of _yourself!?”_

Nureyev felt himself turn beet red. “N- no.”

“You were!”

Juno burst out laughing. Unlike his usual laughs, which on the rare occasions that they surfaced were quiet and restrained, almost as though he didn’t believe he was deserving of laughter, this one was loud and unburdened. It was a full body laugh, and it lit Juno up so beautifully that Nureyev could almost forget that it was at was at his expense.

Nureyev could guess, then, what kind of drunk Juno was. He was the kind whose current predominate emotion, whatever it was, was exacerbated by the alcohol. When he was sad, he’d end up crying into his drinks. When he was angry, there would be yelling and picking fights.

Right now, Juno was _happy._

Even just the flickering, uncertain smiles he had shot Nureyev during their mission to retrieve the map had been enough to nearly bowl the thief over, and now here he was. Smiling a smile big enough to cut the moon in half.

_“You know, one time Benzaiten won an award for having the Galaxy’s Best Smile. Can you believe that?!”_

Nureyev had never known Juno’s brother, of course, and all he knew of him now came from those little glimpses that Juno gave him when he felt safe enough to voice them. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Benzaiten had deserved the accolade, though, if he had indeed had the same smile as Juno.

Juno definitely had the best smile in the entire galaxy. In all the galaxies, surely. And it made Nureyev feel emotions of an enormity that he had never before experienced. He wanted to live in that smile. He wanted to make a home in it. He wanted to lean forward, grab Juno by the face, and kiss him in front of everyone. He wanted to feel that smile against his lips.

It took every ounce of self restraint he had not to do so, and he gripped his glass, begging the last sober vestiges of himself to keep him from acting on any ridiculous notions.

He didn’t kiss Juno, thankfully.

He did do something else, though.

_Crack._

“Oh. Dear,” he said. “These things aren’t very sturdy, are they?”

Before he could even realize what was happening, his glass had shattered to pieces in his hand, and his nice clothes that had surely cost the person he’d stolen them from several thousand creds were drenched in alcohol and littered with shards of glass.

“Nur- Ransom!” Juno exclaimed, immediately concerned, and in the moment all that Nureyev could think was how sad he was that the smile had vanished from the lady’s face. “What the hell happened?!”

“I believe I broke the glass.”

“Christ! Do you have the grip strength of a goddamn metal vice?” Juno’s voice sounded shocked and more than a little bit impressed. Nureyev couldn’t help feeling rather pleased about the latter. Then, suddenly, the ex-detective was back to looking concerned. “Ransom, you’re bleeding.”

He looked down at his hand. “Ah.”

“We- we need to get this cleaned up. Get you cleaned up,” Juno said. He swayed slightly as he made his way to Nureyev’s side to worriedly inspect his hand. If his drunkenness had been boosting his happiness before, it was now boosting his anxiety and fear.

“I’m all right,” Nureyev insisted. “Just a cut. Barely even hurts.” He didn’t want Juno to worry. He just wanted to see that smile again.

Vespa let out a long groan. “ _Ugggggggh._ You two are the worst. I’ll go grab the nearest first aid kit. Ransom, Steel can get you your bandaid. I’m going to bed. You got this, Steel?”

Juno nodded. “I’ve patched myself up enough times to know how.”

“Great.”

She was back in a moment with the kit, handing it off to Juno before dragging Buddy off to bed.

“Good night, darlings,” Buddy said as she was pulled away. “Rita, I think you’d best leave them be, too.”

Rita frowned. “But what if they need my- _Oooooooh_. Okay.” She waved and winked comedically aggressively at Juno. “G’night, Mistah Steel and Mistah Ransom! Mistah Ransom, I hope you feel better soon!”

“Good night, Rita,” Nureyev said, feeling vaguely lightheaded. It wasn’t from the wound- that wasn’t nearly bad enough to warrant such a response. If he had to guess, it was from Juno being so close that he could feel his breath. From the soft, reverent way he was currently cleaning the cuts on Nureyev’s hands.

Juno looked up to watch Rita go. “What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Juno’s next words were softer and slightly slurred. “…Are you mad at me?”

Nureyev stared at him, completely lost. “What? Why would I be mad at you?”

“I was…I was laughing at you. Then you broke the glass. Did you break it because you were mad? Ma did that sometimes. I- I shouldn’t have laughed. Shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry-”

“Hush, Juno,” Nureyev said. “I’m not angry in the slightest. Really, it _was_ rather funny. And I’m touched that you went that far just to rescue my note.”

“Then…why?”

“Why did I break the glass? I suppose I underestimated my own strength.”

“Why were you gripping it so hard, though?!”

What could he tell Juno? He studied his hand, not wanting to admit the truth. He couldn’t very well say, _I found your smile so beautiful that if I hadn’t held onto something as hard as I could, I would have surely lunged forward and kissed you right there._

He looked up to find Juno staring at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“I…did not mean to say that out loud,” Nureyev said. “Apologies, Juno. I seem to be rather drunk.”

“You don’t say.” Juno snorted. A glimmer of a smile reappeared on his face, to Nureyev’s delight. “That’s really why, though? You wanted to kiss me?”

“Well, yes,” Nureyev said, flustered. “You have a very…nice smile.”

“Well, I’m not stopping you.” 

Juno suddenly looked embarrassed, almost shy. Hopeful, too.

Nureyev had lost the ability to think coherent thoughts.

“Oh. Okay,” he stammered.

He gently took Juno’s face in his freshly bandaged hand as he’d imagined doing not much earlier, and pulled him into a deep kiss. The lady’s lips were as soft and warm as always. They still tasted like drink, but also something so purely _Juno_ that Nureyev was certain he could have gotten drunk on that taste alone.

He shifted, moving closer. Juno mirrored his actions, shuffling across the carpet to reach him, and then-

“Ow!”

Juno swore and broke away, to Nureyev’s dismay. It took him a moment to figure out what was wrong: there was still broken glass on the carpet.

“Are you all right?” Nureyev asked.

“Mm. Just pricked me. We should really get this cleaned up.” He hesitated. “On second thought, picking up glass while drunk might not be a good idea. Let’s just…mark it off so no one steps on it and then go to bed. We can deal with it in the morning.”

They did just that. Nureyev hated that even though Juno had drunk much more than him, he was the one leaning on Juno for balance as they walked back to his room. He couldn’t stop thinking about that smile. He wondered what it would take to make Juno smile like that while sober, and decided that whatever it was, he was going to figure it out.

When they reached the door to Nureyev’s room, Juno paused.

“Make sure you drink some water before you go to sleep,” he said. “And don’t use your right hand more than you have to, so it can heal.”

“I know, I know.”

There was an awkward but companionable silence for a moment. Nureyev wanted more than anything to invite Juno into his room to stay the night, but he knew he shouldn’t. They weren’t there yet, and besides, that wasn’t a step that he wanted to take while under the influence.

“I can’t believe you really broke a glass because of me,” Juno said finally, smirking.

“Oh, shush. It’s your own fault. If you hadn’t…looked like that, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Well, I’m so sorry. In the future I’ll refrain from ‘looking like that’.”

“Please don’t,” Nureyev said immediately.

“…Okay. Then I won’t.”

Nureyev moved to open his door, then hesitated, chewing his lip. “Juno…there’s something I need to ask you.”

Juno immediately knit his brow, his shoulders tensing. “What is it?”

“About the time you had sex in a public place-”

The ex-detective groaned loudly and gave him a good-natured shove. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Could you at least tell me about the foursome, then?”

 _“No!_ God, I am never playing Never Have I Ever with you guys again. Good _night,_ Nureyev.”

Nureyev grinned. “Good night, my dear.”


End file.
